


Flashbacks and Vignettes

by airshipmechanic



Series: The Magnificent Dragons [2]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Dragons Not Getting It, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:04:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airshipmechanic/pseuds/airshipmechanic
Summary: So there I was, working on the Goodnight/Billy piece I wanted to attach to this AU, and a couple of little flashback pieces popped into my head. They don't have anyplace else to go, but I figured I might as well post them in case anybody just wanted more dragons and cowboys.





	1. At Cross Purposes

He knew what he was doing was wrong. Of course he knew that. It went against God and the law, the things he thought about other men. But then, the Good Book also said that sinning in his heart was just as bad as sinning with his body. If he was bound for Hell anyway, Goodnight thought, he might as well enjoy the trip. 

So when his neighbor’s visiting cousin started flashing mischievous looks at him and sitting a little closer than he ought, Goodnight gave him a grin or a wink in return. A casual touch could be returned just as casually, and nobody would think anything of it because it didn’t even cross their minds that it was _possible_. And he could go out riding with David, all the way to the edge of the property where the creek ran through, and no one would say a word about them being unchaperoned like they would if he’d gone out there with a young lady. 

What his family didn’t know - what _no one_ knew, not even his dragon - was that a lady’s virtue would be as safe going to the creek alone with Goodnight Robicheaux as it would in the middle of a ballroom surrounded by the entirety of New Orleans society. David Marchand’s virtue, on the other hand…

They really had intended to just go for a swim. And they _did_ go for a swim, and it was refreshing and wonderful in the sticky summer heat. But there they were, both naked, and they couldn’t stop trying to steal looks at each other. They fell into each other’s arms on the shore, kissing hungrily, pawing at each other, desperate for more and more. Goodnight hadn’t gone to the river with David _planning_ to end up on his back in the grass, legs spread, whining with pleasure with David buried to the hilt inside him, but one thing led to another, and he was very glad it did. 

“Ah, _putain_ , David, please, please, _merde_ , that feels so--” Goodnight cut himself off with a gasp. That particular thrust, something about the angle, felt so good that all Goodnight’s fine and extensive vocabulary in both French and English deserted him. He was reduced to a groan, rocking his hips up and clinging to David’s shoulders like he was being swept away by a current. “Just like that, oh _mon Dieu_ , like that, but harder!” 

In a few more strokes, Goodnight cried out wordlessly as he came, and the jerking of his hips and clenching of every muscle brought David off just moments after. Goodnight was boneless with satisfaction, exhausted, and not thinking in the least about getting caught in the act. Everyone else was busy today, with no reason to come anywhere near this place. 

Everyone except Angelique. 

“Goodnight!” she gasped, at first just shocked. Along with her gasp came David’s yelp of horror and panicked scrambling to his feet, and Goodnight’s equally panicked cry of “Angelique!” 

“What are you _doing_?!” the dragon angrily snapped. David had already begun frantically throwing clothes back on, doing a haphazard job because he was far more interested in escape than anything else. 

Goodnight, likewise, was grabbing his trousers and pulling them on, all while trying to figure out how he’d talk his way out of this one. “Let me explain, _ma cherie_ ,” he said quickly, only to be met with a huff. 

“Explain?!” Angelique smacked her tail on the ground in fury, not unlikely an agitated barn cat. David, less used to dragons, grabbed his boots and made a run for it. “I do not need an explanation! I know exactly what that was!” 

“Angelique, please…” Goodnight didn’t think he’d ever seen her so angry, not at _him_. She was never angry at him, not once in the four years they’d been each other’s constant companions. If she was disgusted with him, if she _left_ him over this, Goodnight didn’t know what he’d do. 

“You said you would be back at four!” Angelique snapped. “Do you know what time it is now, Goodnight Robicheaux?” 

“I...what?” Now, instead of choking on tears that threatened to spill, Goodnight was just confused. Why on earth was Angelique yelling at him about the time? 

“It is _five-thirty_ ,” Angelique hissed, oblivious to Goodnight’s confusion, or at least ignoring it. “You are an hour and a half late to go into town with me, and for what? To fool around with some _boy_ who’s going to be gone at the end of the summer anyway? For this, you make me worry and make us late? I am so angry with you I could drop your best waistcoat down the well!” 

For a moment, Goodnight stared at her, mouth agape, completely unable to make sense of matters. “It’s the _time_ that you’re upset about?” 

“Obviously!” Angelique rustled her wings in annoyance. “An hour and a half late, Goodnight? That is ridiculous, even for you! I cannot fathom the sheer inconsiderateness of it all! The neglect of my person, the disrespect for my time, the complete failure to consider what horrors I would imagine might have befallen you as I searched...ooh, I have never been so furious with you in all my life! I thought I would find you _drowned_ out here!” 

Goodnight’s parents, he knew, would have been much happier to find him drowned than to find him with David Marchand. The fact that Angelique’s rage was predicated entirely on the rudeness of his lack of punctuality was so stunning that it took a bit to get his response straight. “I..ah… _je suis desole, ma cherie_ ,” he said at last, still looking rather agog. “I...I was most inconsiderate, and I feel terrible for having caused you to worry and wait on me.” 

The apology seemed to mollify her a bit - which wasn’t too surprising, Angelique had never been able to stay annoyed with Goodnight for long. As the anger deflated, it left a little sadness in its wake. “It hurts my feelings that you would be so caught up with someone else as to forget me.” 

“Oh no, _cherie_ , I could never forget you,” Goodnight gently replied. He came up to place his hand on the dragon’s neck, smoothing down the scales to her shoulder. “I lost track of time, and that was not well done of me, and you would be fully within your rights to give me a good sharp kick in the shin for it, but I promise you, I would never forget you. This is no different than when you got so excited chasing that alligator that you left me too far behind to catch up.” 

Angelique’s eyes widened in shock. “You were planning to _eat him_?” 

“No!” Goodnight laughed. “Good lord, no. No, we were, uh…” 

“I know what you were doing,” Angelique replied with a snort. “Fortinbras explained all that to me three years ago. You do know you can’t get an egg like that, though, don’t you? With two boys?” 

“Yes, Angelique, I am aware of that,” Goodnight dryly replied. He was about as impressed with her questioning his knowledge of human reproduction as she was with his questioning of her knowledge of the same. “What I mean is...you aren’t angry with me? That it was David I was with?” 

“No, I like David. Though I may like him less now that he made you late for going to town with me.” 

Goodnight thought perhaps he wasn’t asking the right question. “I mean, you aren’t angry that I was with another man? You don’t think I’m...disgusting or terrible or--” 

“What?!” Angelique looked horrified by the mere idea of it. “I would never! Goodnight, you are the most wonderful, brave, brilliant, handsome man in all the world, and you belong to me! Of course I would never think you were disgusting! How could you say such a thing?!” 

It was nothing he would ever hear from anyone else. Goodnight was sure of that - there couldn’t possibly be another being in all the world who saw him like that, who could witness the shame he had carried for years and still adore him. His family wouldn’t, his friends wouldn’t, but Angelique would love him no matter what. With a strangled sob, Goodnight launched himself forward and threw his arms around his dragon’s neck as far as he could reach. 

“J’taime, Angelique,” he whispered. “ _J’taime beaucoup_ , and I’m sorry I was late, and I--” 

“Goodnight, _cher_ , what on earth is wrong with you today?” The dragon folded him up in her wings, ducking her head down so it was just the two of them in their own little world. “I know I was angry with you for being late, but I didn’t mean to upset you so. I just wanted to know you wouldn’t do it again.” 

“I...you just...you don’t understand,” Goodnight said quietly, leaning against her chest in gratitude. “It’s...it’s one of the things that people care about that dragons don’t, I guess. If anybody else had saw what you saw, I’d’ve been in a lot of trouble. Loving men like that’s against the law, and against religion, and people get very angry about it. They hurt people over things like that.” 

“Well, I don’t see why I should care for laws or religion,” Angelique said with a disdainful sniff. “Those are just made-up human things. I care about _you_ , and I would never let anyone hurt you. If anyone tried to hurt you for that, I would bite their head off.” 

From a dragon, that was actually a very literal threat. It still made Goodnight laugh softly as he wiped his eyes, though. “You are the best dragon in all the world, did you know that?” he asked with a watery smile. 

“Of course!” Angelique cheerfully replied. “You tell me every day! Now, put your shirt on so you can go to the house and clean up and change. I still want to go to town.” 

“As you command, my lady,” Goodnight said, bowing since he wasn’t wearing a hat he could tip. He set to the task of dressing, feeling considerably lighter than he had moments before. 

“Is it only other men that you care for that way?” Angelique asked as he dressed. As ever, she sounded only blithely curious, not at all judgmental. 

“Yeah,” Goodnight admitted. “Lord knows I’ve tried to make myself take an interest in ladies, but there’s just nothing there.” 

“I suppose you won’t be making an egg to take care of me after you’re gone, then.” That was the usual way of things, in the mostly-European tradition that they followed. Dragons didn’t like to be alone, and they preferred to have human companionship, but not just any human would do. Most often, they liked to keep close with family members after losing their first bonded human, particularly with their children. If Goodnight wasn’t going to have any children, since that obviously wouldn’t work if he only wanted to mate with men, then they were going to have to come up with something else. 

“Do you think Armand or Celeste could give you one of their eggs, when they have them?” she continued, thinking aloud. She loved Armand and Celeste, Goodnight’s brother and sister, even if not quite so much as she loved Goodnight. Any offspring of theirs would probably be lovely, and after they’d had a few of their own, they could just have an extra one for Goody. 

“Humans are a little different about their children than dragons are about eggs, cherie,” Goodnight chuckled. “But I promise, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of after I’m gone, and that’s a long ways off, so there’s no need to start worrying about it yet.” 

“It had better be,” Angelique replied, and nudged Goodnight’s shoulder with her snout, a gentle gesture of affection. “We can worry about an egg some other time. For _now_ , I want to worry about beignets and a nice cup of chicory in the Quarter.”


	2. What's In a Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief in-flight interlude early in Goodnight's partnership with Sam the dragon, telling the story of how he came to be called Goodnight.

Sam and Goodnight were both aware of what their partnership was not: it was not what either of them had lost. Sam didn’t expect he’d ever take to another human like he had with Cora, feeling like their connection was permanent and they’d be together as long as they lived. Goodnight, in turn, found that the idea of joining up with another dragon on an indefinite basis still felt like a betrayal of Angelique, a thought he couldn’t bear. What they were, though, was friends - good friends who could help each other and keep each other company and maybe keep the dark at bay a bit. They might not have the level of closeness that they’d had with their first companions, but they were close enough to start asking some of the more interesting personal questions. 

“How’d you end up with a name like Goodnight?” Sam asked. They were in flight, crossing Apache territory, tracking a Flamme-de-Gloire and his man who’d taken to burning down banks and taking whatever was left afterward. A perfect job for a dragon bounty hunter and his relatively newly-acquired human partner. 

“What, you didn’t expect my esteemed mother came up with it?” Goodnight asked with a chuckle. “Well, you are correct - for the first twelve years of my life, I was Julien. Angelique was the one who started calling me Goodnight, and it didn’t take long before everybody else did, too.” 

“Why’d she call you that?” Sam asked, curious. It was a funny sort of thing to call someone, after all. Didn’t really seem like a name at all. 

Goodnight let the question watch over him, memory taking him back to the old days, the times before. _Well_ before, back when he thought he and his dragon would spend their lives as couriers and envoys, flying about to do business and carry post with nary a care in the world. He didn’t normally talk about those times - he didn’t talk too much at all, really, though he was talking a little more since he’d been a couple of months with Sam. But the past, that was a different thing, a harder thing. The only time he’d talked to Sam about Angelique, he’d been a drunken, sobbing mess, telling him how she’d been killed in in a battle that they shouldn’t have even been fighting. 

But now, thinking back to his and Angelique’s name day, he actually found himself smiling a little. 

“So, I spent months next to her egg when it was hardening in our barn,” Goodnight began, settling in against his seat at the base of Sam’s neck. “I still had to do my chores and my lessons, and as much as possible I’d do my lessons in there, too. And when the lessons were done, I’d talk to her and read to her and sing to her in English and French ‘til my mother came out there and chased me off to bed. And every evening, I’d say, “goodnight!” and kiss her shell before running off to bed. You can see where this is going, I imagine.” 

“Yes,” Sam chuckled. “But go on.” 

“Finally, the day came that her egg was hard as rock, and we knew she’d hatch any time. Mama started letting me stay in there all the time, and when she hatched, at first I was the only one in there. She came stomping out of that shell, and lord, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on. All blue and white and gray and trying to stretch her little wings out, giving the bits of her shell a delicate little kick to get them out of the way, sticking her tongue out to smell everything around her, and then she caught sight of me and came stumbling over as fast as she could. No one had ever looked upon me with love like that, not even my family, and I was looking back at her just the same. Barely managed to get my cotton-wrapped brain working enough to say ‘hello there’ and push a big pot of gumbo over to her - we knew it was probably the day, so it had been simmering all day waiting for her.” 

Goodnight had to stop a moment, letting the memory settle. It was so vivid - the smell of gumbo, the shine of dragon scales, the warmth of the barn. He’d tried his best not to think of it at all for so long that it almost felt strange to acknowledge again. But it was a good story, wasn’t it? A happy story. It was one that used to make him smile every time he thought of it, and he hadn’t expected to, but here he was smiling about it again. 

“She scarfed that gumbo down - wasn’t interested in me in the least until she’d licked the pot clean - and when she was finished, I asked her if she’d like to have a name. ‘Oui, I think so,’ she said to me, and I told her that her name was Angelique. And _then_ ,” Goodnight laughed softly, that silly old memory so beautiful and pure in his mind. “Then she says, ‘I’ll give you a name, as well.’ It wasn’t something I had ever heard of a dragon doing before, but I was so charmed in that moment I would have agreed to most anything she wanted. ‘All right,’ I said, and she looks at me just a second before she says, ‘Your name is Goodnight.’ I laughed, because what kind of a name is that, but she leaned over to nuzzle her head against my chest and I said, ‘all right, _cherie_ , Goodnight it is.’ Hardly been called anything else since, and now it feels like...a little piece of her, I guess, that I get to keep.”


End file.
